Just The Beginning
by ElvesAreEpic
Summary: Mirkwood grows ever darker, bringing death and despair to her people…and the royal family is no exception to these consequences. When Legolas returns home wounded, will it be in time to save him...or will Legolas's stubbornness be his own undoing.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Sorry that this is late —my bad. But hey it's here, so that's what matters right? I hope you guys enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**A special thanks to my beta. **

**Disclaimer: not mine…**

**Just The Beginning**

Chapter One

An arrow whizzed through the air, landing with a resounding smack in the tree directly next to Legolas's head. The young elf ducked, whisking an arrow of his own out of his quiver and notching it. Pulling the bowstring back, Legolas sighted an orc before letting it fly.

The foul creature fell with a loud cry, a hand flying to its chest. It was only one of evil creatures that filled the forest, striving to rid it of the goodness that Mirkwood had once possessed.

Legolas yanked another arrow out, his hand firm despite all of it. His large blue eyes were wide and scared looking while his breathing came in short gaps. This was the first time that the young elf, relative in age to a young teen in human years, had been in the horrors of battle…the damage, bloodshed, the stench of death.

Oh, this was not the first time he had seen the devastating effects, he had often helped the injured and heard the stories. This was not even his first kill, but it was his first experience with death on his comrades' part. Nothing could have prepared him for it.

A scream wrenched Legolas back to reality, causing his hands to lightly shake for the first time. Firing another arrow, the prince suddenly found himself making a downward plunge, a heavy weight pressing against his back. Falling hard to his knees, Legolas twisted around chocking on his horror as he turned back to see what had hit him and found himself locking eyes with an obviously dead elf.

Scrambling back as quickly as possible, Legolas tired to stay in control, but his panic was beginning to take hold. A sudden snarl brought him whipping around, and he came face to face with a blood stained knife.

Stumbling to his feet and wrenching his blades free at the same time, Legolas met the enemy head one. Hacking the orc through the stomach, the prince narrowed his eyes getting a hold of his emotions as best as he could. His feeling didn't matter right now, his companies lives might depend on him staying in control.

Two leering orc stalked the young elf. To their eyes he looked an easy kill, only a young frightened elf, and they lopped towards him. It was a mistake. One targeted the prince from the front while the other came from behind.

Legolas saw the first orc out of the corner of his eye, and swung around slashing forward with his knife. The orc bellowed, clutching at the hole in his chest before crumpling to the ground. The other orc meanwhile loomed up behind Legolas, taking advantage of the elf's distraction.

Thrusting a blood stained knife at his target, the orc threw his weight behind it as he pushed it deeply in the elf's unprotected right side.

The pain was sudden and divesting. Legolas gasped out a scream, fighting against the urge to fall to his knees. Bright flashes of light appeared before his eyes and for a moment the young elf thought he was going to pass out. The pain reached an even higher intensity as the knife was brutally yanked free and Legolas lost his footing, falling ungracefully to all fours.

The ground beneath his eyes swirled threateningly, teasing the elf as it moved on him. Hoping that the sky would not be like the ground, the prince glanced up, only to find that a dark blob was blocking the light. Blinking with effort Legolas's mind slowly comprehend what the "dark blob" really was —the orc, with his blood-stained knife already making the downward plunge. Legolas did nothing, eyes wide and staring, but unable to move as he was frozen in pain and terror.

Suddenly, it was the orc who was screaming, the orc who was falling forward with the tip of an ivory blade sticking out of his chest.

The sound jerked Legolas back. Surging to his feet Legolas removed his hand from where it had automatically gone to his side. It was covered in blood, his own blood and he quickly pressed it back against the wound.

_It's not that bad, it's not that bad…there are more elves who need you to be strong, Legolas Greenleaf! _The prince thought firmly to himself, mistakably noting his wound to be much less than what it was. _Just keep fighting, no matter what!_

Fortunately for the young prince, the intensely of the fight was already slowing and before long only elves left standing. The forest was oddly silent, only the heavy breathing of the elves making a sound.

Legolas struggled to stay upright, one hand pressed against his still dripping side. He needed to do something more to stop the blood flow, but his tried mind was slow to come up with the obvious. After a moment, Legolas fumbled with the end of his cloak, ripping the bottom off and wrapping it around wound, which comprised of the right side of his chest.

A low moan was heard from his left and looking over Legolas spotted an equally injured warrior, lying on the blood splattered ground. Clinging tightly to the trees, the elf made his way over, dropping with relief to the ground.

"Is…is there anything…I can do?" he asked, his words slurring. Frowning at the strange occurrence, Legolas tried to focus on the elf in front of him.

"Those who are able to help the wounded, do so!" a loud voice echoed through the clearing, coming from the commander. "We must hurry and leave before more attack, we are in no shape to face another large group."

Legolas registered the words and turned his blurred gaze back to the elf next to him. The elf was more unconsciousness than awake and did little to help Legolas haul him to his feet. The added weight threw the prince off balance, causing him to stumbling into a tree, doubling over slightly with pain.

The warrior he was support roused himself just enough to give the prince a worried look.

"You…" he began, before his eyes rolled back and he sunk down even more against Legolas.

_You can do this…you can do this…Ada could do it…." _Legolas repeated over and over to himself, shouldering the warrior's weight and joining the staggering line of elves. The large crimson stain only continued to grow across the bandage, hidden by his cloak.

JUSTTHEBEGINNING

The cry for help was raised almost immediately when the elves of Mirkwood saw the wounded warriors coming into view. Within minutes the place was swarming with healers and other elves that where racing to their aid.

Legolas shook the elf he was holding slightly, beginning to seriously fear for that the other had died. It was not true, but he didn't know that. The prince himself was feeling quite light headed. The blood from his own injury had finally started to let up, but he still had a lost a dangerous amount.

_Just keep walking…it's nothing….you can do it. _Legolas muttered quietly to himself for the thousandth time. It was only his will power which kept him up and going.

Hearing shouting in the distance, he looked up with half-lidded eyes, watching as elves came in waves towards them. Suddenly a healer was at his side, gently taking the injured warrior from him.

"Are you well, your highness?" A second healer asked, grabbing Legolas's arm.

"Yes…" the prince mumbled, watching as the healer rushed off to help someone else. The scene was slightly familiar. It had happened a few times in his short life, though Legolas had only experienced it form the other point of view.

"Legolas…!?" a voice suddenly shouted, raising above the rest of the din. Startled, Legolas looked up, rearranged his cloak and hiding the blood and bandage as he recognized his father King Thranduil's, voice. His head did not agree with the fast movement and suddenly the elves around him began to blur together in a mass of color and noise. Everything was becoming much to hard to focus on…

"Legolas!, oh bless the Valar, Legolas, are you injured?"A familiar voice cried just seconds before strong arms were wrapped around him in a tight embrace. Legolas jumped badly, stumbling back with surprise and irrational fear.

"Legolas—"Thranduil asked in surprise, freezing where he was at, unsure whether he should take a step back or go forward. The hurt look that crossed his face caused Legolas to smile apologetically, slowly stepping forward to meet his father. This time he did not turn away as his father embraced him.

"Ada," Legolas whispered, leaning his forehead against his father's shoulder. Thranduil pulled his son a little closer for a second, his heart warmed to find his only child still alive. Holding Legolas out at arm's length, the king studied him carefully.

The prince was covered in the grim of war. Blood darkened his clothes and face and Thranduil thought his son looked paler under all of it. "Are you well?" the king asked again, softer this time and starring directly into Legolas's eyes.

"Yes, ada, I am well." The prince avoided his father's gaze, choosing a spot on the ground to look at instead. "Just tired." This was very true; he was tired both physically and mentally.

Thranduil understood. He would never forget his very first battle. It was a scar that he would forever hold. Seeing your companies cut down was something that was not easily forgot.

"Come, Ion-nin you will be of no use if you fall asleep on your feet." He said firmly, wrapping his arm around his young son's shoulders and guiding him back towards the palace. He steered them through the crowd of elves, knowing that he would have to come back as soon as he took care of Legolas.

"Ada I can go back myself...I'm not a child. Stay and help." Legolas said, thinking along the same line. Pulling back from his father, they were both surprised when Legolas swayed on his feet. One of his hands flew out wrapping itself around his father's arm, holding himself steady while his father's hands grabbed his arm.

"Ion-nin, I think it would be best for me to accompany you back." Thranduil spoke quietly, brow furring with worry.

"No, ada, really _I'll be fine_." Legolas whispered, almost pleading for the older elf to leave him alone. He couldn't keep this façade up for much longer…and he didn't really want his father to worry, because it wasn't that bad.

Suddenly a cry went up for the king, breaking off their conversation. The commander of the troops was weaving his way through the crowd, skidding to a stop next to the pair. Dropping to his knees for a second the warrior rose.

"Sire, I have urgent news which cannot wait!" he said, a worried look etched on his face.

"We will discuss it later." The king said firmly, frowning at the interruption. The warrior did not back down, however, insisting that the king really was needed. Thranduil froze, a look of indecision crossing his face. His father instincts were screaming at him to take Legolas back, make sure for himself that his young one was well… But then again, Legolas had told him that he was fine and he wouldn't lie to him, not like that.

"Legolas, go straight to your room, I want to talk with you when I get back." Thranduil ordered, placing a vice like grip on his son's shoulders and staring him in the eyes. Legolas nodded numbly, watching as his father rushed off, before stumbling off towards the palace.

By the time the young prince reached his room, he was sweating heavily and his eyes unfocused. As he reached for the door handle, he discovered that his hand shook uncontrollably.

_Why am I shaking? _Legolas thought with panic. _Why am I so sweaty! Elves do not sweat_! His panic was growing by the second. He had experience his fair share of minor injuries in the past, but never had he been so seriously wounded, or at least that he could remember.

Falling through his door way Legolas staggered over to the his soft, welcoming, bed where he closed his eyes and was almost instantly asleep.

The elf's sleep was not easy, however, His white face grew paler as he began to toss and turn. He dreamed, dreamed of seeing all his friends and family ruthlessly cut down in front of him, dreamed of hearing the screams of the dying over and over again in his mind until he thought he would go crazy. Just when he thought he really would, a sharp intense pain rocked through his chest.

Crying out, Legolas sat bolt upright, doubling over and clutching at his wound and panting heavily. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal, though the grimace of pain never left Legolas's face.

Pulling his hand away from his side, the prince was shocked to find it stained a deep, dark red. Blood…his own blood. Glancing down at his side, Legolas was even more surprised to find that his whole right side was stained with it, as well his blankets and sheets.

"Ada's going to kill me…" the prince moaned in distress, his groggy mind only thinking off all the times his father had reprimanded him for needless dirtying his bed.. He didn't realize that this was one time his father wouldn't get after him for it.

Legolas groaned, taking a good look down at himself…he was filthy and would never pass expectations.

By mere will power Legolas forced himself up right, clinging tightly to his bed post. Moaning loudly, the prince forced himself to tug his blood-stained tunic off. Looking up, the elf froze with shook at himself as he caught sight of his reflection.

His skin was an unhealthy grayish-white and dark shadows were below his eyes and his chest was marred with the sickening wound. Legolas fingered it lightly, looking at the red, inflamed skin which was beginning to swell. Though he was no healer, he knew that this wasn't right.

_You need to wash it. _Legolas thought, and it made sense to him. Moving slowly he dunked a cloth into a basin of water that was sitting on his dresser. Suddenly he stopped. The water probably needed to be warm…he remember hearing somewhere that hot water could clean more toughly than cold water could.

Staggering to the fire, Legolas did his best to warm some water up. When the liquid was boiling hot, Legolas rewet the cloth, bracing himself with a deep breath before pressing it against his side. The cloth feel form his hand as Legolas emitted a soft scream, falling to his knees as pained coursed through his body.

A whimpered escaped his bloodless lips and he hung his head, trying to stop the tears from slipping from his eyes. He couldn't do that again…he just couldn't. Leaning back to rest against his bed, Legolas fumbled for his already ruined tunic. Ripping it into a long strand he wrapped it firmly around his wound, hoping it would help some.

Not able to find the energy to get up, he simply slumped onto the floor, closing his eyes with a sigh and drifting into another fitful sleep.

**TBC…**

**Me — evil— I don't know what you mean! *smiles wickedly* **

**And just a side note, I am only going to updating this one every two week…but the good news is that my other story, Estel, Our Hope, will be posted next week!...you guys must hate me even more now...! :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I feel terrible that you guys had to waite so long for me to get back to you…:( But at least I'm updating, right? A HUGE thanks to all you amazing people for reviewing/favorite/following. **

**Disclaimer: not mine. **

Chapter Two

King Thranduil walked tiredly down the hall. Today had been a bad day, to say the least. Three more of his warriors were dead and more might soon follow… Each elven life was precious, not to be wasted like such and he felt his heart twist painfully. And Legolas, his dear son, had been forced to witness it all. Legolas was a warrior though, and would soon become familiar with it all ―at least to an extent.

Thranduil frowned heavily as he stepped into his room, thinking. After he got out of his own blood stained clothes he was going to have a talk with his son. He had a strong suspicion that Legolas had been lying to him about being all right, at least mentally.

Undoing the fastings on his tunic, the king shuddered, his mind unintentionally drifting back to the horrors of what had happened.

Valar, never before had he felt so much fear grip his heart as he had when he had heard how Legolas's patrol was returning. Legolas was just a boy yet, he shouldn't have been out there doing what he was. The king, however, had known that this day would come and nothing could have prepared him for it.

Legolas was a fine warrior, one of the best he had seen with a bow at his age, but one of these times his son was going to come home injured….or perhaps dead. He would never be able to deal with that, not after losing his wife as well.

Thranduil shook his head, erasing these thoughts. His son was alive, nothing else mattered. Swallowing thickly, he rubbed his forehead tiredly…he really needed to talk with Legolas.

JUSTTHEBEGINNING

Legolas was sleeping fitfully when someone knocked lightly on his door. Jerking awake, the prince thrust a hand into his mouth to stiffly the sound of his pain. He rocked back and forth on the floor for a second, until his father's voice was heard on the other side.

"Legolas…can I come in?" the door knob was already turning and the young elf felt a jab of fear course through him. His father couldn't find him, not like this. Leaping to his feet, Legolas threw himself against the door, slamming it shut again.

"Legolas―" Thranduil's confused and slightly hurt voice sounded through the door. Legolas gripped hard to the side of the door, trying to keep form passing out.

"Give me a second, ada." He gasped, pressing his hot forehead against the cool door.

"Why can't I come in?" the king asked, his voice puzzled, the door knob was twisting again and Legolas panicked.

"Because…because…I'll be right out." Legolas fumbled with his words, the desperation to keep his father out of the room clear. He could now only pray that his father would leave him be because he physically could not hold the door shut if Thranduil wanted to push the issue.

For a minutes there was a silence on the other side of the wood and Legolas held his breath, anxiously, wondering what his father was thinking. Then the door knob, which had been twisted, was released and Legolas knew he had won this time.

"Alright, Legolas, but meet me in the study, I'll be there shortly." Thranduil's voice spoke of no disobedience. He was tired, and didn't really want to fight with his son, but he did want to talk with him — if Legolas needed a few minutes to compose himself then Thranduil would grant him that.

Legolas sighed with relief sinking down to the floor, one hand holding his wound protectively. He felt hot and achy, an experience which he didn't appreciate or like.

Knowing that his father expected him to be in the study soon, Legolas struggled to pull a fresh tunic over his head, cursing the pain in his chest. Dragging himself to his feet, the young prince slipped through the door.

The elf made his way down the seemingly endless hallway. He was sweating profusely… and he hated it. Stopping for a moment, Legolas pressed his hot face against a cool, window plane. He stood there, eyes closed and legs trembling. Finally he managed to urge his body to keep moving and left the coolness behind.

It had relived him a small bit, but by time he reached his father's study he was feeling much worse than before. His pulse pounded painfully and his breath came in ragged gasps.

Legolas nodded to the guards posted there, who saluted once before letting the prince pass, giving him concerned looks as he was forced to hold onto the door for support. As he entered, the prince looked around for his father. Seeing that the king had yet to appear, the young archer sank into a chair with a groan of both pain and relief.

The pain was growing in his chest and he shifted restlessly, holding his breath. Legolas rested his head in his shaking hands, allowing a low whimper to leave his throat. Maybe hiding his wound wasn't such a good idea…maybe it was worse than he had originally thought.

Suddenly, Legolas heard the door open and straighten. He was too proud to let his father see his weakness despite what he had just been thinking.

"Legolas," his father called, striding over to his desk and seating himself behind it.

"Ada," the young elf returned the greeting, trying to hide how his voice shook. Thranduil looked up, surprised at the weakness which filled his son's voice.

"Ion-nin?" he asked getting to his feet again and crossing over to his son's side. He studied his boy more carefully, bending down so he was looking directly at him. Legolas face was sheet white and his eyes were unusually glassy. "Are you sure you are well?"

"Yes," Legolas managed, not meeting his father's eyes and turning his face away.

"Is it about the skirmish?" Thranduil asked, knowing firsthand how hard death was and figuring that this son was having a hard time accepting it, causing his decline in health.

"No―yes…I don't know." The elf mumbled hiding his face in his trembling hands. He felt his father kneel besides him and pulled back as Thranduil tried to touch his shoulders, sinking back into the chair as far the he could.

"Legolas!" his father exclaimed in frustration, not understanding why his son pulled away.

"I'm all right, ada." The prince said, hugging himself as he settled further in his chair.

"No, I don't think you are." Thranduil said shortly, beginning to become annoyed with his son's lack of _cooperation_. His temper was already short and this was not helping matters at all.

"No, really," Legolas tried to protest, but his father would have none of it. Reaching out the king took his son firmly by the shoulder.

"I want to help you; I have felt what you are feeling." Thranduil began still believing that the only injure his son had sustain was that to his heart. "Legolas don't shut me out!" he begged.

"Ada…" Legolas began, but was cut off as a wave of pain coursed through his body silencing his words. He hung his head, closing his eyes and trying to stifle the cry of pain. A silver tear slipped down his cheek at the immense pain he was in and Legolas let his hair fall forward, shielding his face from view.

"Ion-nin, this is a difficult thing to go through. It is of no shame to feel this way." The older elf coaxed, tightening his grip slightly.

Legolas heard his father's words but black spots were bursting in front of his eyes and he thought that he might, just might, be ill. This made the prince panic and he surged to his feet, desperate to make it away from prying eyes before something happened.

"Legolas, this is _ridiculous_!" Thranduil growled, his voice raising to hid the hurt that tinted his words as his son bodily pushed past him. Turning his back, he braced himself against the desk trying to control his rapidly raising temper.

A sudden crash reverberated around the room and his head jerked up. Thranduil whirled around, angry words already slipping past his lips.

"LEGOL— Legolas…" he yelled, chocking on the name before his voice allowed him to let out a soft whisper. His son was crouched on the floor, holding onto the table that he had knocked over in an effort to stand up. His face was screwed up in anguish. "Legolas!" Thranduil repeated louder, watching with horror as Legolas gained his feet, allowing his father to see for the first time the bright red stain on the silver tunic.

All the anger and frustration vanished, leaving Thranduil in shock. Legolas lost his balance again, sinking back to the floor in what at first appeared to be a dead faint. Lunging forward the king just managed to catch his young son.

"Legolas, Legolas, come one. Speak to me!" Thranduil cried, pulling the boy up into his lap and slapping his checks lightly, watching with heart-stopping relief as glassy blue eyes opened. Suddenly they snapped closed again, pain creasing his features.

"Ada…" Legolas moaned, curling into his father's arms as the agony rose a notch. He could no longer go on pretending, not any more.

"Shh…Greenleaf, I am here." Thranduil soothed, lighting pressing his hand against the young prince's brow. "Hush…" he muttered distractedly not liking the heat that radiated off Legolas. The elf groaned again, weakly clinging to his father.

"_Guards!_" Thranduil shouted, his voice tinged with terror. The guards, hearing the call, pushed open the door, poking their heads in.

"Get a healer in here _now!_" The king growled, before turning his attention back to his ill son. The father could feel Legolas's lithe body shaking against his own and didn't like it one bit. The prince suddenly whimpered, turning his face against the king's chest.

"Shh…Legolas, I am here." Thranduil soothed as best as he could, stroking his son's face and hair with one hand. With the other he began to gently pull up the silvery blue tunic until he caught sight of blood soaked bandages. Muttering more soft sounds of comfort, Thranduil slipped his boot knife out, cutting away the material.

"Ad―" Legolas began, but cut off, tensing up against his father. His breathes began to come in short gasps and he distantly heard his father swear, an unusually sound in of itself. Something was suddenly pressed against his open wound, causing him to scream and convulse upward.

"Stop, please, ada make it stop!" He cried, almost sobbing as his pain rose to an enterable level. He had no strength left to be strong, and he was scared. Scared of the worry he heard in Thranduil's voice, scared of the way his body was reacting to the wound, scared of the way…

"Stay with me, my Greenleaf, stay with me." Thranduil called, panicking even more as he watched his son's breaths began become too labored and quick due to fear. "Shh, just stay calm."

Suddenly the door crashed open behind them, reveling the guards and healers. Rushing in, a healer shoved Thranduil aside, concentrating on his patient.

The elves worked furiously to stabilize Legolas, doing all they could for their young prince. The king reached out, grabbing his son's hand and clasping it tightly, it being the only part he could still touch. His heart constricted painfully as Legolas cried out and he pressed the young elf's hot hand to his cool check.

"Hush…shh…" Thranduil whispered, knowing very well the pain Legolas was in. The young prince's only response was to grip his hand even harder, squeezing with all his strength. "Why, Legolas, why didn't you tell me?" he voiced in a mere whisper, blinking furiously to clear his eyes which had began misting over.

The young prince could only see the faces' of the healers, all of whom he knew, but he only wanted to see his father. Beginning to panic, he struggled to sit up and letting his gaze fly widely around for his ada. "ADA?"

"Prince Legolas, you can't get up," one of the healers soothed, pulling him back to a flat position, motioning for the king to come closer. "Your ada is right here, see?"

"Ada…?" Legolas questioned again. The faces around him where beginning to blur, but a tightening grip on his fingers and a strong familiar voice brought him back. Thranduil was right there, leaning over him and softly stroking his hair.

"I'm here, I won't leave you." Thranduil clung tightly onto his son, struggling to talk past the lump in this throat as Legolas called out too him. Oh how he wished that he could gather him in his arms and kiss the wound away like when Legolas was little.

Abruptly a healer pushed past Thranduil, gentle sliding his hands underneath his prince's body.

"He needs more aid then we can give him here." the lead healer explained, his eyes dead serious, as Legolas was lifted up. Thranduil was instantly on his feet with a glare that would make even the bravist of them tremble.

"Let me carry him." he ordered, holding out his amrs. Seeing that the king was not going to back down, the elf transfered his burden. Legolas hissed, body limp in the saftey of his father's arms as they began their journey to the healing ward.

Legolas's eyes were closed, but soft whimpers escaped his lips as he was jostled about. Thranduil whispered a soft apologize, hugging the young elf's body closer to his. Legolas breathed in deeply, fighting to bring a hand up to wrap around his father's fore arm.

"Don't leave." He breathed out, allowing his head to fall back and rest against the kings cool shoulder.

Soon they reached the healing ward, much to everyone's relief. The head leader placed a gentle hand on his lieges shoulder, biding him to stop.

"Wait here, we will come with news as soon as possible." Thranduil froze, looking ready to strike the healer for even suggesting such a thing. "You will only be in the way. I will take him." The other elf finished firmly before the king could interrupt.

Thranduil gazed searching at the healer, before slowly nodding, his throat constricting too much to speak. Prying his hands off his child, the elf relinquished his hold. Reaching out desperately he squeezed Legolas's hand one last time before letting it slip from his fingers.

"Ada…ADA!" Legolas called out struggling against unfamiliar hands, reaching out to Thranduil plaintively. This was a terrifyingly new experience for the prince and all he knew was pain. He needed someone that he knew, someone that could comfort him.

Thranduil watched in sad silence as the door banged shut behind the elves and Legolas's desperate calls where cut short. The quiet was deafening. With a silence came a mounting fear and the king sank down to sit on the floor. With his elbows propped on his knees, he buried his face into his hands

His son, his only child, was fighting for his life behind those closed doors and there was nothing the king could do about it.

"Please…be with my child." He begged softly. The fear of losing his son, just like he had lost his wife, was too great. His shoulders began to shake and for the first time since his wife died, he cried.

Meanwhile behind the doors, the healers were trying to calm their prince.

"Drink it, no harm will come of It." one of them coaxed, holding up a sleeping draft. They would be able to properly care for the wound until Legolas was put to sleep…it would be too painful otherwise.

"No, no, where's my ada!" Legolas muttered feebly, sounding like the young child that he really still was.

"He's waiting for you, but you have to drink this." The healer said, lifting Legolas's head off the pillow and bringing the mug to his lips.

Finally the princes succumbed to the nasty stuff and within seconds, his pain diminished and the world turned black.

TBC…

**I wonder if all you guys are pulling out your hair because you just realized that you don't know how long you will have to wait for an update! I promise…hope…really hope that next time I will update on time! **

**Review Responses:**

**Emi The Nija: **Legolas, it would have to defiantly be Legolas…though I wouldn't say that I'm not evil to you guys as well! :D Thanks!

**The Phantom Dragon: **Thanks! Thranduil will sure be suffering in feelings this time! The trailer was good, wasn't it? Except for I really, really, do not approve of Legolas having a love interest, just saying.

**mig43: **I hope so too! Thanks!

**XxNaiXx: **Turned out to be a little bit more than two weeks didn't it. *walks away in shame*! (I hope that you are still alive to read this : )

**DancingChestnut: **I agree, sometimes it is very nice to get something new! Thank you so much for reviewing!

**Heroicfantasyfan: **Thank you very much! I hope you did manage to wait, because it was longer wait than anticipated.

**Lusse Eldalion: **Looks like I forced both of you to wait! Poor Legolas…he really must have slept for a long time. jk. Thanks a lot!

**Rachielle:** Yes, yes we do! That poor elf…Thanks so much!

**Michelle: **Thanks for the suggestion, I will certainly use it! No offense was taken, I am always looking for ways to improve my writing. Thanks again!

**AmazingWrier123: **The answer to that would have to be no.:) Thanks so much mellon-nin!

**Laura Morgan: **I'm so sorry…two weeks came so fast I wasn't prepared! Thanks so much for leaving a review!

**Guest: **You are probably very right about both those things! Thanks a lot of dropping a review!

**Eruaistaneil: **Thanks so much! God bless you as well!


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